


Buried in the Storm

by spacegirlstuff



Series: Destiel December 2020 [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Prompt, Destiel December 2020 (Supernatural), I Tried, I need sleep!!!!!!, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sick Castiel (Supernatural), Tumblr Prompt, and failed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:02:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28342104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegirlstuff/pseuds/spacegirlstuff
Summary: “There’s nothing to apologize for,” Dean says chuckling as he takes his hand back, hoping that the other man can’t see the crimson in his cheeks, “Now get back in the bed and pick something for us to watch while I get this done for you.”“You are hurt!” Castiel protests.“I can handle a burn, Cas.” the hunter nudges him towards the bed, “Don’t worry about me.”“I always worry about you,” he hears the ex-angel mumble as he walks away, leaving Dean standing in the kitchen with a renewed blush on his cheeks and a rapidly beating heart in his chest.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Destiel December 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037769
Comments: 16
Kudos: 83





	Buried in the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 8: Blizzard

Cold air rushes through the crack between the door and the wall before Dean closes it, dusting off his jacket when he finally steps into the warm room. Dropping the plastic bag on the broken motel chair, he turns towards the occupied single bed, sighing softly when he sees the figure shake violently under a blanket.

“Did you finish the soup?” he asks, approaching the man.

“No,” Castiel grumbles, making Dean sigh again, “It tastes like shit.”

“You need to eat something before taking the medicine, Cas.” the hunter says. Picking up the remote lying on the covers next to the ex-angel, he throws it on his bed before sitting next to the angel. Placing his hand on his forehead, he comments, “The fever went down, at least.”

After a pause, he quietly asked, “When can we go back home?” 

“As soon as the blizzard ends, I’m bundling you up in the backseat and then driving off straight back home.” Dean answers. Hesitating for a second before he gets up, he moves towards the kitchen, “But right now, I’m gonna make you some chicken soup that I went to buy at eight at night in the middle of a frigging storm because you are worse than twelve-year-old Sam when you are sick and you are going to finish it before I give you your medicine and then both of us are going to become dead to the world until tomorrow morning. Capiche?”

“I Capiche.” 

“Good,” Dean mumbles before getting to work, his hands working on autopilot as his mind travels a million miles a minute.

It had been just over a month since Castiel had asked Jack to make him human, and less than four weeks since he had knocked on the bunker door to inform him and Sam of his decision. It still broke Dean’s heart each time he remembered the insecure look on his face before Dean had asked him to stay.

_ You’ve known him for over a decade and you still failed in making him believe that you need him around.  _ He shunned that thought as quickly as it came, locking it up before he could-

“Damn it!” he cursed, withdrawing his hand away, soft footsteps echoing against the cold tiles as the other man came to stand beside him, the while duvet hanging off his shoulders as one of its ends drags across the dirty floor.

“You need to be more careful,” Castiel takes Dean’s hand in his cold ones to inspect the burn.

“You need to learn how to wear proper clothes,” Dean replies as his eyes rake over his bare torso, briefly landing over the anti possession tattoo on his chest before moving away.

The man pulls the covers closer to his body with his unoccupied hand, the blush on his cheeks making Dean’s heart do somersaults in his chest. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Dean says chuckling as he takes his hand back, hoping that the other man can’t see the crimson in his cheeks, “Now get back in the bed and pick something for us to watch while I get this done for you.”

“You are hurt!” Castiel protests.

“I can handle a burn, Cas.” the hunter nudges him towards the bed, “Don’t worry about me.”

“I always worry about you,” he hears the ex-angel mumble as he walks away, leaving Dean standing in the kitchen with a renewed blush on his cheeks and a rapidly beating heart in his chest.

They had been toeing this thin line for the past month now. Ever since Castiel had permanently joined him and Sam in the bunker, neither of them had mentioned the then angel’s confession. Dean would defend himself by saying that he was giving Castiel space and time to adjust as a human before bringing it up eventually, but all in truth, he was scared.

He was scared that the other man had changed his mind about loving him or had just given up on him, and he was not ready to face that particular situation. He was not ready to hear the person he has been in love with for the better part of the past decade reject him because he had already tested the man’s patience enough. He was scared that if he did bring it up, Castiel would leave him again, and he was not ready to see the love of his life walk away. And so here they were, dancing around another, stealing small moments with each other, both too scared to talk about it.

Pulling his mind back to reality, Dean balances the two mugs filled with soup on a makeshift tray he had dug up from the back of the impala along with a few crackers that he was going to shove down the sick human’s throat whether he liked it or not.

“Scoot over,” he says, nearing the single bed, Castiel obeying him as he makes space on the bedside table for the hunter to place the tray.

“Thank you,” Castiel responds, picking up the warm cup, blowing some steam as he tries to take a sip before Dean stops him.

“You are going to burn your tongue,” the hunter places a hand on the man to stop him, “Wait a few minutes for it to cool down.”

Castiel just nods, placing his mug back on the table, the silence stretching a few moments before he softly speaks, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I should have taken better care of myself,” he says, his eyes focused on his hands, “I got sick and now you are stuck here taking care of me when-”

“Hey,” he sits on the bed, hardly hesitating before he caresses Castiel’s face in his hand, the feeling of rough stubble in his palms making his stomach do something weird, “There is nowhere else I would rather be than right here taking care of you.” Dean strokes the man’s chin with his thumb before continuing, “And don’t for a second think that this is your fault or something you should apologize for. Getting sick comes with the whole ‘being human’ package, and you have absolutely nothing to apologize for. Okay?”

“I don’t…” Castiel trails off before finally looking up at the hunter, “Thank you. Again.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Dean smiles softly, “I’m just happy that you trust me enough to let me do this for you.”

Waiting for a moment, the ex-angel locks his eyes with the hunters, “Will you stay with me?”

“As long as you want me to.” he replies before sitting on the ex-angels’ bed properly, ignoring his senses as they go haywire he continues, “Stop hogging the blankets.”

Rolling his eyes, Castiel holds up one end of the blanket, letting Dean slip in next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to pull his body closer before he loses his courage, he inquires, “Is this fine?”

Shifting impossibly closer to the hunter, the ex-angel buries his head in the man’s neck, breathing him in before responding, “Yes.”

Dean turns towards the television, both of them ignoring the way the other’s heart races as they lace their fingers together under the covers, Castiel resting his head on the hunters shoulder as Dean cards his fingers through his hair.

_ And if they both fall asleep holding each other for the next few nights, then that knowledge is buried in the storm. _

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I am sick, this is stupid and I hate everything :(  
> I love you all though!!!  
> p.s. hope i dont die because of fever...


End file.
